Miami Vice
by JillianPeters
Summary: While on vacation in Temptation Hell, Steph comes to a startling realization that Ranger's apparently not the only one who collects on debts. Rated M for later chapters and pure, unadulterated Santos Smut. Que delicioso!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all,**

**I know it's been awhile since I've updated Step Up and Oh, Baby! but a lot is going on in my world right now. My sweet kitty Mishu was just diagnosed with chronic renal failure last Thursday and I'm absolutely heartbroken! She's doing well for right now but I fear that she will only get worse in the coming months and there is nothing we can do to stop the progression of the disease. She's still eating and playing and jumping, and I'm trying to enjoy every single day I can get with her. I've also been working the night shift on a temporary basis so my biological clock is all screwed up. Only four more nights to go, and I'm going back to days! Yay! I hope to get back into writing so that I can finish the stories I've started. Sorry for keeping you all hanging! **

**Anyhow, the idea for this little piece has been popping into my mind for practically forever, and I figured I'd better get it down on paper before I forgot it. Because we can all use a little Santos lovin' in our lives. Please let me know what you all think!**

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><p>The driver's side door latch of my latest vehicular disaster only opened after a swift kick to the outside handle, but for some reason getting <em>out<em> of the car from inside was no problem. I was thankful for this as I slunk out of the rusty thing, covered from head to toe in canola oil and all-purpose flour. I had managed to grab both my shoulder bag and broken stun gun before shoving the door shut behind me, but I really couldn't be bothered with locking it. A great early Christmas present would be if someone were to actually steal it and take it off my hands.

Of course that would never happen as long as it was parked in the RangeMan garage, but sometimes I have fantasies of driving it over to Stark Street and purposely leaving the keys in the ignition before Mary Lou whisked me away in her air-conditioned Town & Country minivan. The terrifying realization of no doubt having to hog around Trenton in the embarrassment of a Buick known as Big Blue kept me from doing that, but a girl can still dream, right?

Ram was manning the RangeMan garage guard gate that afternoon, and from the playful smile gracing his lips I knew that he wasn't about to miss a chance to rag on my car. Again. Not to mention the fact that all I needed were a few raw eggs to be thrown at me and I could be put into the oven and baked into a Stephanie Special.

"Still driving that Gremlin, Steph?" he countered.

"I guess the Car Gods were busy last night while I was praying for a Lotus." I held up my broken stun gun and glared at Ram. "If this thing would have actually worked this afternoon, I wouldn't be a greasy mess right now."

"Sammy Snake-Eyes?"

Nodding miserably, I hung my head. "He's ninety years old, about as deaf as one could get, and blind as a bat. They should be calling him Sammy Cataract-Eyes. His daughter took away all his firearms after his heart doctor suggested he give up mob life for good, so I guess all he had to defend himself against my invasion were items from his pantry."

"Damn," Ram said, smiling sympathetically. "You should have taken one of us with you, then. Or at least an extra stun gun."

"It's really okay," I sighed. "No harm done. I mean, there's oil and globs of flour all over the seats of the Gremlin, but I can't say I really give a flying fuck." I started to trudge towards the elevator, my greasy sneaker soles squeaking against the shiny cement paint of the garage floor.

Ram chuckled after me. "Sounds like you need a vacation, Bomber."

I froze mid-step and stared back at Ram. A vacation! Nah. I couldn't take a vacation. Stephanie doesn't do vacations, unless they involve hunting after skips in Vegas or slathering Grandma Mazur up with factor 80 sunscreen at the Jersey Shore before heading off to chase down an FTAed Pete Zambrano, one of the boardwalk's frozen custard vendors. I shivered. My recent memories would forever be plagued with visions of her wrinkly white skin poking out of a pink bikini from PacSun, strolling around by the water's edge looking for "hotties" who might "put out."

Ram cleared his throat, breaking me from my thoughts. "Um, Steph? You're starting to look a little pale, despite all the flour on your face."

I dashed up to Ram, oblivious to the fact that I was sprinkling flour all over the pristine garage cement. "Do you think Ranger would let me?"

"Take a vacation? Sure. Why not?" Ram frowned.

I frowned. "I'm pretty sure I used up most of my vacation and sick time when I had that bout of food poisoning last month," I muttered, thinking of the first and last time I'd eaten lunch at that new Thai restaurant a couple of blocks down from the bonds office. A few moments later, I said, "I'll just tell him I need a few days to myself to collect myself. Surely he couldn't say no to that."

Ram grinned. "Then I'd say it's worth a shot." He glanced down at the trail of flour and greasy shoe smudges leading from my car to his guard booth, over to the elevator, and back to his guard booth. "Hey. Maybe we can get Ella to add a little food coloring to the mess in your hair so that we could make -

I didn't hear the rest, because I was already in the elevator on my way up to two. And I wasn't going to take no for an answer.

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><p>My laptop at my desk was opened and I had printed out about six different trip itineraries, which were stacked on top of my desk blotter in the order of my first preferences. There were a few towards the front of the pile that I really couldn't afford, but if I skipped out on buying groceries and mooched dinner and at least four lunches from my parents for the entire week after I got back, I <em>might<em> be able to consider them.

"I thought I smelled Tasty Pastry from down the hall," a deep voice boomed from behind me, causing me to jump in my desk chair. I glanced at him standing behind me and made a face before whipping my head back to my computer. "Beautiful, I know how much you love junky sweets but rolling around in baking ingredients isn't going to make your hormonal sugar cravings go away."

I was too hung up on planning my vacation that I barely noticed he was dressed in a tight tank top and baggy gym shorts that rode low on his hips. I looked up from my desk and saw that he was now sitting in one of my guest chairs, his chocolate brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned at me.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my computer screen. "Well, no one else is giving me anything to crave, so I figured I'd get my fix from flour."

"No, seriously. What happened?"

I sighed and turned completely around to face him. "Sammy Snake-Eyes. Need I say more?"

Lester snickered so hard barely any sound came out. "The retired mobster? Come on, Steph. Tell me you didn't let him get to you."

"Oh, he got to me, all right." I turned back to my laptop and began scrolling down a page on the Travelocity website. "Blind bastard."

Santos reached over and picked up the first paper on my stack of itinerary mock-ups. He read wordlessly for several moments before setting the paper down in front of him and picking up the second one in the stack. This went on until he had read through all six itinerary sheets, and when I finally stared over at him he was rearranging the sheets in an order that was different from what I'd originally had them in. He tapped the sheets on my desk and made them into a neat pile before handing them back to me.

"What did you just do?" I asked him, puzzled.

He grinned again. "Apparently, you're planning some sort of vacation for yourself and the Bossman obviously approved it. I just put these trip mock-ups in the order that _I_ think would be the most fun," he replied non-chalantly, shrugging. "The trip to Martha's Vineyard that was your #2 choice? That's now #6. And your historic train ride through Savannah? That's been bumped to #7."

"I only had six sheets," I pointed out.

"Yeah. Well, that idea was so lame that I had to demote it to not even being considered at all." Les picked up the first and second sheets. "These are your winners."

I looked at the itineraries that he held in each of his hands. The one in his left hand was the weekend trip to South Beach, and the one in his right hand was a night on the town in NYC. Lester raised an eyebrow and stared me down until I finally snatched them out of his hands. He watched while I shredded the remaining four trip itineraries. It was now between Miami and NYC. Hunh. Tough choice.

"Still enjoying your week off?" I asked him. "Bored yet?"

"It's only been a day and I'm already going fucking crazy."

I had to laugh. "Having those takedown withdrawls again?" I countered.

"Something like that."

The Miami and NYC trip itineraries were still awaiting a decision, so I sighed and stared down at them on my desk blotter. If I did Miami, I could lay out in the warm sun and tan...swim in the crystal-clear ocean...dine on the best Latin food known to man...maybe strike up a conversation by the hotel pool with a mysterious tall, dark, and handsome stranger. If I went the NYC route, I'd have to take a cab everywhere and fight the crowds just about any place I went. Not to mention _everything_ in New York was super-expensive, right down to the hotel toilet paper. I'd be completely broke an hour into my vacation.

"Beautiful," Lester said after awhile, breaking me from my thoughts. "While you're deciding on a place to go, I'm going to do a quick workout downstairs." He rose from the guest chair and reached around to his backside to pull out his wallet. "And when you finally do pick a place, book the trip for two." Lester extracted a black Amex credit card from his wallet and tossed it on top of the two itineraries.

I looked up at him, completely speechless. When I'd found my voice, I squeaked, "You want to come with me?"

Les simply smiled his knee-melting lopsided grin. "You owe me the trip of a lifetime, gorgeous. Better make it good."

"I don't know how to thank you," I said, picking up the credit card and softly brushing my fingertips over the raised lettering. I couldn't believe that Lester was willing to accompany me on a vacation, let alone pay for it. I've always known him to be kind and generous, but this seemed to take it to a whole other level. Besides, we were such close friends that we could go on a trip to a cardboard box and still wind up having the time of our lives. I looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"Like I said," he reminded me. "Better make it good."

"South Florida, then," I suddenly blurted out. "The weather's supposed to be great this weekend."

"_Bienvenido a Miami_." Lester winked at me and started towards my office door, iPod and weight-lifting gloves in hand.

Be still, my heart.

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><p><strong>TBC...<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so I've managed to overcome the writer's block that has been creeping around this story and ta-da! Here's the next installment of Miami Vice. Thank you to all who have read and reviewed! I've decided to make this story only a few chapters long, and to not draw it out for several more chapters. I'm already working on the next one! Step Up will be updated soon, and Oh, Baby just got a chapter added not too long ago. **

**If you haven't read book 17 in the Plum series, you may want to just skip ahead to chapter 2 of Miami Vice. For those of you who _have_ read the newest JE book 17, I'm curious to know if you all felt that the steamy stuff between S & R was emotionless? As horrible as this sounds, it almost felt like Ranger was only using Steph because she had vordo? I truly thought that she'd choose between Joe and Ranger in this book, and was only so disappointed to find out that she still hasn't made up her mind. Grow up Stephanie! This last book was somewhat better than the last few she's written, but I'm getting tired of the Joe-Ranger circus. **

**Alright, enough of my rant! Sorry to go off on a tangent but it's been bugging me. As always, happy reading!**

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><p>From my perch on the lounge chair that was situated on our hotel room balcony, I could see the entire ocean and all of its shimmering glory. Small waves rolled onto the shore, the sand was nearly pure white, and the late morning sun was shining high in the clear blue sky. Birds called, kids shouted below on the beach, and the sea of umbrellas propped up in the sand for what seemed like miles up and down the shore reminded me that I shouldn't wait too long to get into my suit and start working on my tan.<p>

Yep. I was definitely in paradise.

The sliding glass door behind me opened and I turned to see Lester stepping onto the balcony, a drink in each of his hands.

"Made special by the guy at the bar down by the pool," he said as he handed me an icy-cold glass. "Authentic Cuban mojitos."

I took a sip and nearly died and went to heaven. "Pinch me, because I seriously must be dreaming."

Lester's eyes twinkled as he smiled. "You haven't experienced hardly anything yet, beautiful." He plopped down onto the lounge chair next to me and stared out at the sea. I followed his gaze and together we drank in silent contentment, watching as the waves lapped at the sand.

Several minutes passed before I turned to Lester and asked, "Are you all unpacked?"

He nodded. "I would've unpacked your bags, too, but I was too afraid you'd freak if I touched your panties or something." Les grinned again and sipped the last of his mojito.

Freak? Try ruin the pair I was already wearing.

I shook my head to clear it of my inappropriate Lester-Lusting and did a five-count to control my breathing. When I was sure that my voice wouldn't come out husky, I replied, "That's okay. I didn't bring much, mostly shorts and tank tops. And some nice stuff in case we decide to go out. I don't know about you, but I'm definitely in the mood to sample a taste of Miami's nightlife."

"You know I'm always in the mood for clubbing." Les looked at his watch. "But it's only eleven. Which means...beach first."

I grinned back at Santos. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

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><p>When the top and bottom ties of my Hawaiian-print string bikini were secure and a black tube top coverup dress was doing an awesome job at keeping me modest, Les and I grabbed a couple of fluffy hotel towels and headed out of our suite. We rode down to the lobby and walked out to the pool area, which featured a gorgeous flowered overhang and a live steel drum band off to one side. Beyond the pool area was a full bar, complete with flat-screen TVs and stools where one could relax and have a drink while catching a Marlins game.<p>

And beyond that gleamed the ocean.

Since I was determined to become as brown as the natives who lived here, I declined Lester's offer of a beach umbrella rental and decided to rough it with a towel in the sand and a bottle of Panama Jack. Nothing was coming between me and the sun but a schmear of dark-tanning lotion and my clearance-rack bikini from Kohl's.

Lester spread his towel out beside mine and sat down, tucking his knees under his chin. He peered at me through his expensive dark-tinted sunglasses and bit his bottom lip. "Think those kids over there would let me try out their skimboard?" He gestured towards the water's edge where a few young boys were messing around in the surf with a small wooden board. Every so often, one of them would toss it away from them and run after it before leaping on top and riding the small waves into the sand.

I shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt to ask."

Santos removed his sunglasses and placed them on my towel for safekeeping. "Wish me luck."

I watched as he meandered down to the water's edge and felt my breath catch in my throat. He truly was gorgeous. His skin was smooth and flawless, the color of caramel all over. It stretched over cut muscles and a back and shoulders that begged to be licked and suckled. He wasn't overly built to the point of a Steroidosaurus, and I thought he looked better this way. Baggy black board shorts rode low on his hips, and I knew from RangeMan locker-room gossip that he wasn't one to wear underwear a whole lot. His jet-black hair was cut short and spiked, and he kept it neatly trimmed and gelled to tousled perfection. And when the gel's washed out for the evening, the thick, silky spikes practically scream to have hands run through them. His eyes were deep brown, framed with mile-long lashes. His lips were full and pouty, bordering on looking collagen-enhanced. His teeth were perfectly straight and white, his smile was slightly lopsided, and he always smelled good enough to eat. Always.

I'd thought that Lester Santos was a total hunk practically forever, but it's never once occurred to me that I'd ever allow him to be anything more to me than a great friend and an adventurous partner in crime. Plus throw Morelli and Ranger into the mix and you've got yourself an award-winning episode of Maury. Maybe it would even be entitled "Love-Square from Hell: Trenton Woman Lusts After Three Hot Men and Eventually Ends Up Alone With Thirty Cats." I shuddered at the thought.

Not that Morelli and Ranger are part of the love-square anymore, since Morelli finally gave up on me and Ranger decided that his life was too much of a mess to involve me in his unpredictable situations and often times dangerous predicaments. I've accepted that, though it's taken awhile. Needless to say, we're still friends, and I work for him, but while the stolen kisses and innuendo are gone, we still share the fond memories of two amazing nights together.

As for Joe, he still shows up on my doorstep from time to time with a Pino's pizza and a case of Bud Light but once the last beer is gone and the pizza's been eaten, he kisses me on the cheek and lets himself out with nary a mention of the "boys" or a sneak look down my blouse. Truthfully, I kind of missed it a little, but it's much better this way. My mother doesn't chug from the Jack Daniels bottle as often now as she did when we'd first ended it for good, so that was progress, right?

Getting jiggy with Lester would certainly put an effective end to my dry spell, but would most likely cause confusion about our friendship and worries about what we'd think about each other when the sex-haze wore off. I wasn't sure I wanted to take a chance and ruin what we have, and I definitely wasn't sure if he even thought I was sexy enough to want to rattle the headboard with me.

Which is why I willed myself to stop squirming on my towel and panting like a dog.

"Hey, Steph! Watch!" Lester yelled to me from the shoreline. Either he'd actually charmed his way into the boys' skimboarding group, or they were humoring him and hell-bent on wanting to watch him bust his ass.

Ass-busting it was. "You suck!" screamed one of the boys. Lester was down in an instant like a sack of sand. I'd watched as he tossed the board ahead of him and ran to catch up to it, but once his feet made contact with it, it slid right out from under him and effectively ended his skimboarding spree.

I was off of my towel in an instant. "Don't try to get up," I called, running against the wind. The group of kids were pointing and laughing, and poor Lester was on his back with his knees up, cussing like a sailor.

"Help me over to my towel," he commanded to me once I reached him. "Damn near broke my fucking tailbone."

"It's sand," I said incredulously.

"Hard-packed sand." He reached underneath his butt and yanked out a large shell. "And I fell on this rock."

"Bummer." I took the shell and tossed it back into the waves before kneeling down and wrapping one of his arms around my shoulders. "On the count of three, try to stand up."

After I got Les settled on his towel, I hiked over to the bar near the hotel pool and got us each a daiquiri. Extra rum in both. When I got back to Lester, about six college-age girls were crowded around his towel, each clad in the skimpiest of bikini bottoms and had saline-enhanced watermelons stuffed into their bras.

"We watched you fall off of that skimboard," they were saying, concern dripping from their squeaky words. "Are you hurt?"

"No," he scoffed, laughing it off and simultaneously turning on the Santos Charm. "Just a minor accident, ladies. No permanent damage done." The second he saw me heading towards them all, he turned to me and said, "Oh, good. My wife is here with our drinks."

The second those words left his mouth, the six bimbos immediately slunk away, no doubt unnerved by the fact that the sexy lone guy on the beach was presumably married. Score one point for Plum.

"Thanks," Lester grumbled once the frosty drink was in his hands. "Things could've gotten ugly. Six women at once would be a record for me."

"How's your ass?"

"It's okay."

"How's your ego?"

Santos grinned. "Stroked to perfection."

We stayed on the beach until both of us were practically blacking out from the combination of alcohol and sun. Since Lester's ass was nearly back to normal and my tan felt good and dark, we gathered up our towels and stopped off at the hotel pool's bar for one more drink to take back up to the room. We each ordered another mojito and managed to make it into the elevator before we passed out in the lobby.

"No more drinking on the beach," Lester announced as we trooped into our suite. "And no more skimboarding."

"You had to try it once," I pointed out. "What's a vacation without trying new things?"

"I think I'll just lay down on my bed for awhile, beautiful," mumbled Lester. "I'm pretty tired." He yawned and belly-flopped onto the queen-sized bed closest to the balcony, still in his sandy swim trunks and still with his towel draped around his neck. Three seconds later, he was snoring.

I wasn't feeling nearly as wiped out, so I locked myself into the bathroom and stripped down in the shower. I washed off all of the sand and rinsed my hair, and by the time I'd shaved I felt like a human again instead of a salt-water-logged sandbag. I wasn't sure if Lester would feel like going out later on, since he'd almost cracked his ass earlier, but I figured that I'd be ready to go either way. I set out a pair of pajamas in case we stayed in, and hung a skimpy pink sundress on the bathroom door and paired it with pink heels in case we went out.

I was going to have fun tonight if it killed me.

At a quarter to nine, Lester stirred on the bed next to me. He rolled over onto his back and rubbed his eyes. He did the usual guy-waking-up thing: he scratched his balls, yanked his swim-trunk wedgie out of his ass, and sniffed under his arms.

At that moment, he was _definitely_ less sexy than he'd been on the beach.

"I need a shower," he grumbled, his voice thick and deep from sleep. "I smell like the bottom of the ocean." He scooted off of the edge of the bed and tossed his beach towel onto the floor. He turned to face me. "Do you know what you're wearing tonight?"

A flutter of excitement passed through my stomach. "Still feel up to partying?"

A slow smile spread across Lester's face. "Does a bear shit in the woods?"

_Yes._ South Beach, here we come.

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><p>We took a cab to B.E.D. since it was a short hike from our hotel, and because my slut shoes weren't designed to go for long distances. The music was thumping. Heavy bass, not many lyrics. Techno-ish, but not trance rave. My guess was that it was house, and by the time I'd figured that out, Lester was handing me a plastic cup that contained a hundred-proof-smelling liquid.<p>

"Here's your chance to party like a rock star, beautiful." Lester winked at me and downed his drink in nearly three gulps. "Bottoms up."

Well, shit. I'll drink to that.

Lester and I found a place to sit that was far enough away from the speakers so that we could hear each other talk, but not so far that we were secluded from all the people. We'd each ordered another round and sipped at our drinks while we took in the partygoers around us.

After awhile, I asked, "Still feeling okay? You were out like a light when we got back to the hotel room." I grinned at Lester and lightly punched his arm. He'd dressed in dark jeans and a white linen dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and he looked absolutely edible.

"All the daiquiris and mojitos caught up to me." Les grinned back and returned the arm punch. "I'm perfect now."

My smile faded and I felt a small stab of jealousy at the fact that Santos was so incredibly gorgeous and I felt like Little Miss Muffet compared to him. I knew there was no way he could possibly be lusting after me. Sure, he flirted with me endlessly and called me beautiful all the time, but I knew that was just his personality. His playboy persona made it difficult to think that he'd be interested in a woman like me, but stranger things have been known to happen.

I felt his gaze on me before I lifted my head to meet his eyes. "Turn that frown upside down, Plum." Lester's eyes were sparkling. "Don't tell me you're bummed out already. We've been here a half-hour."

I managed to smile and reply, "I'm not bummed out."

Lester sighed. "I can't blame you for still being depressed about Ranger and the cop. I mean, everything ended so quickly with both of them. Give it time. The right guy'll come along and sweep you off your stilettos."

This got a laugh out of me. "Plenty of guys have come along, courtesy of my mother and grandmother." I rolled my eyes. "But at least those mutants don't get shot at for a living or have dangerous enemies."

"So what's the problem?"

I couldn't believe I was about to voice this to Lester, but knowing him he'd probably be okay with talking about it. After a few beats, I sighed and replied, "I'm sort of in a dry spell."

He took a sip of his drink and nodded sagely. "Yeah. I know the feeling."

Now I was shocked. "You? A dry spell? Come on." I snorted with laughter.

Lester grew serious. "Think about it, Steph. When was the last time you saw me bring home a chick?"

I thought back to the last time I'd known about a woman sleeping on the fourth floor, up in his apartment. It had to have been months ago, and the girl was so much fun that she and I had gone to lunch together at Mike the Greek's that same day. Michelle-something. I had her phone number. Maybe I should give her a call sometime.

"Beautiful?"

"Um, it's been months, Les."

"Exactly."

"So what's the problem?" I asked him, a teasing smile on my face.

Lester took another sip of his drink. "Maybe I'm ready to hang up those player-gloves. The whole different-chick-every-night routine's getting kinda old."

"Is my little Lessy growing up?" I cooed.

He laughed. "Maybe. Maybe not." He glanced out at the dance floor. "Only one way to find out."

I watched as Lester set his drink down on the table in front of us and stared after him as he made his way out to the dance floor. Some floozie immediately latched herself onto him and dipped and grinded like there was no tomorrow. Soon, two others followed and made themselves into a Santos Sandwich. I lost sight of the group on the dance floor, unsure if I should go out there and rescue him if he was stranded and definitely not wanting to embarrass myself should he happen to be having a good time.

Turns out I didn't have to make any decisions, because as soon as the song ended Lester was back over at our table and was plopping down into his seat.

"Anyone strike your fancy?" I countered.

He shook his head. "Nope. Not one girl."

"Are you turning gay?"

"Hell, no."

We sipped our drinks a little more and listened to the music. We watched drunk people get kicked out and new sober folks take their places, quickly becoming the drunk idiots who would soon get themselves booted out the door.

Lester turned to face me, and his gaze was so sexy that I almost passed out from lust. "So tell me, beautiful. What frustrates you most about this dry spell you're having?"

"Well, what do_ you_ think is frustrating me? It's no doubt the same thing that's frustrating you! It's a dry spell, for Pete's sake!"

"Wait a second. Have you had sex at_ all_ since you and Morelli broke up?"

I was _so_ not going there. "Of course," I lied. With my shower massager.

"Yeah?"

My shoulders sagged. "No."

"Damn." Lester sounded awed.

I was getting more and more worked up by the second, thanks to the alcohol. By that point, I really had no control over my mouth. "I'll tell you one thing, though. What frustrates me most is not the dry spell. It's the...wet spell. When I actually was getting some action, it was never really all about me. Sure, with Joe it was great. And Ranger...well, you know Ranger. But I've never had a guy just spend the entire time taking care of me. My needs, my wants. Worship _me_. Show me how it feels to climb to the stars and not come down for hours and hours. Tell me over and over again that I'm sexy and beautiful and gorgeous. And how lucky they are to be the guy who could give me everything."

Shit. I couldn't believe I'd just poured my tipsy little heart out to Lester Santos. I hung my head and covered my face with my hands, completely embarrassed and next to positive that he thought I was nothing more than a nutcase who needed to get laid. Badly.

Lester was quiet for several beats until, "Beautiful. I'm one-hundred-percent positive that will happen for you. I don't know when, or who it'll be, but I can assure you that there's more than just one guy who'd be willing to give you every single thing you just named." His voice became softer as I dared to look at him, still feeling ashamed. "Don't hide from me. You're gorgeous, and beautiful, and _damn_ sexy. And I don't want you to feel ashamed for sharing all that with me."

God, he was the best. I smiled sadly at him. "Just once, I want for it to be all about me. Is that selfish?"

"No. It's how it should be. When I'm with a woman, I put my own wants and needs after hers. To me, there's no greater pleasure than seeing and hearing how much I'm giving her." Les finished off his drink and set his cup down onto the table in front of us.

"Boy, those were some lucky girls."

He winked at me. "Indeed."

Suddenly, I didn't want to be depressed anymore. I wanted to feel alive and happy, and I knew just the place to go. "Let's dance," I suggested. "No more heart-to-hearts. Tonight, I want to party like a rock star." I jumped out of my seat and straightened my dress. "Care to join me?"

"Like you wouldn't believe, gorgeous."

As one song morphed into another song that we both recognized, I knew there was no better time to boogie. I grabbed Lester's hand and led him out to the dance floor and into the throng of people, feeling a surge of energy and a boost of self-confidence as I let loose and held my arms high in the air.

I felt Lester behind me, twisting his hips against mine to the sexy beat that filled the air. His closeness felt calming, comforting. Not weird and unnatural. When I felt his hands close around my waist and begin to move up, I only wished they were situated_ under_ my dress and not outside of it. He held me close for several moments before twisting me around and pulling me up against his front, and I could smell his orgasmic cologne. His neck was damp with sweat, and it was all I could do not to lick from his shirt collar up to his ear and a groan escaped my throat at the thought.

One of his hands was clutching my left hip tightly while the other rested at his side. We continued to move to the music, his essence surrounding me like a fog and leaving me breathless and completely vulnerable. I let go. I was in ecstasy, feeling as though I could do anything at that moment. My eyes shut on their own volition, and my body hummed as my blood pounded slowly through my veins. Lester used the hand that was on my hip to press me closer to him, drawing my throbbing heat against the fly of his jeans, and he was hard.

Lust shot up my legs and pooled between the apex of my thighs, and my head rolled back on my neck as another moan escaped my throat. I felt his lips on the flesh of my throat, soft at first and then demanding as he found my pulse point and sucked. Hard.

Lester's fingers trailed away from my hip and inched lower. He splayed his entire hand on one cheek of my ass and the heat from his skin seeped through the thin fabric of my sundress, making me absolutely burn for him. I moaned again when his lips left my throat and a second later he was kissing me, his motions gentle and cautious.

Jesus, what this man was doing to me. I was losing control and loving every second of it. With one hand still holding my ass, he brought the other up to my neck and tilted my head in the opposite direction before his lips descended upon mine again, this time his tongue seeking entrance between my teeth. He filled my mouth with his warm tongue, and a gush of something hot made my entire core contract with burning need. As I slid my tongue against his, his grip on my ass became tighter to the point of pain. I needed this so badly. I needed_ him_ so badly.

We were jerked apart by a kid who looked like he'd had about sixteen drinks and was clearly on drugs. "Watch where you're dancing," he spat to Lester and I. "And get a room."

"We've got one," I shot back, ready to pound this guy.

Lester held me back and spoke in my ear. "He's rolling," he explained to me. "He's not really thinking all that clearly right now, Steph. Let it go. Come on." I felt Lester grab my hand and begin to lead me off the dance floor, but not before I stomped on the kid's foot with a stilettoed heel.

"Jerk!" I hollered.

"You showed him," Lester said from behind me, a hint of laughter in his voice. "Our hotel's only a few blocks away from here. Do you want to take a cab, or are you okay to walk?"

I thought for a second. "Only if I can walk without the heels."

"Deal."

* * *

><p>Lester and I walked in silence as we made our way back to the hotel. I was carrying my purse, and Lester was carrying my shoes. What a guy. He'd offered to carry my purse, too, but it would have been mean if I'd have let him. The last thing he needed was a cross-dresser hitting on him.<p>

"You're a good dancer," I spoke up when we were a few steps away from the hotel.

"You, too."

We fell silent, and I was guessing that was because each of us were unsure of what to say next. What we'd done on the dance floor had been amazing, but I wasn't about to be the first one to bring that up. I was taking his silence on the matter to mean that he was totally mortified about what had happened, and that it was a mistake, only because we'd had a couple of drinks and I was feeling vulnerable. My stomach began to feel sick, and I was suddenly terrified that things would never be the same again between Lester and I.

"Want to go up to our room? Or take a walk on the beach?" he asked once we were standing in front of the hotel's doors.

"I just want to go upstairs, Lester."

When we reached our suite, I made a beeline for the bathroom and locked myself inside, leaving Lester out in the living room. I wanted to cry but couldn't bring myself to, telling myself that I really had nothing to cry about. So Lester and I shared a dance and a kiss, and a lot of personal stuff, but nothing else. He didn't owe me anything, and I didn't owe him anything. I felt bad, almost like I'd taken advantage of him, until I remembered that it was _his_ lips that had started it all.

I took off my dress and changed into my pajamas. I washed my face and hands, brushed my teeth, and ran a comb through my mid-back-length curls. When I was done I felt better, but thoughts of things being weird between Lester and I still had my stomach in knots.

He was standing in front of the TV, flipping channels with the remote, when I emerged from the bathroom. "It's all yours, if you want to get cleaned up."

Lester nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. My stomach sank. He couldn't even look at me. Dear God, what have I done? I slunk onto the balcony and stared out at the blackness of the ocean, feeling defeated and lower than slug slime. Several people were out on the beach, frolicking in the surf and shouting. They sounded happy. Damn them.

Ten minutes later, I was still staring out into the ocean when I heard the sliding glass door open behind me. Lester stepped onto the balcony and came to stand beside me, against the railing. He smelled like soap, and when he blew out a sigh I knew he'd brushed his teeth by the minty breeze that wafted across my nose. I glanced at him and saw that he'd definitely showered because his hair was wet and had begun drying into that fluffy softness that I loved so much. He was shirtless, in nothing but baggy red basketball shorts.

What felt like hours went by before he finally spoke. "About earlier tonight," he began.

Shit. Here it comes, I thought. Rejection, Santos-Style. I tried to stop him before he really laid it on thick.

"You don't have to say anything about that," I told him softly. "It won't happen again. I apologize if I made you feel sorry for me, or made you feel like you had to do something about my being depressed. True, it was amazing, and I'm sure a night together for us would be. But you're my best friend, Lester. I could never give that up."

Lester blew out another sigh. "Wow. You couldn't be any more wrong." He shook his head.

Huh? "Um...what?"

"I started to tell you that earlier tonight was fucking amazing. If it doesn't happen again, that's a damn shame. You didn't make me feel sorry for you, and you didn't make me feel like I had to do something about your being depressed. Yes, you're my best friend, too. And I could never give that up." Lester grabbed my hip and pulled me closer to him before capturing my face in each of his hands. "But I want it to be me. _I_ want to be that guy who makes it all about you, beautiful. I want to spend the entire night showing you how beautiful you are, how gorgeous you are, how _goddamn_ _sexy_ you are. And how lucky I am to be the guy who can give you everything."

"Why?" I whispered.

His eyes focused in on mine and flashed with lust. "Because I want you."

I felt my eyelids flutter shut as sheer satisfaction rained down on my body. "God, Lester."

Lester dropped his hands from my face and pulled me even closer by the front of my tank top. "You owe me the trip of a lifetime, gorgeous. And I'm going to see to it that you have the same."

As his eager lips found mine and my wet, throbbing lower half found his, thanked my lucky stars because I knew that tonight would no doubt be the best night of my life.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC...okay, so I'm holding out on the Santos Smut. But it's "coming", I promise you! As always, please let me know what you think!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to all who have read and reviewed, and for sticking with me through the last chapter of Miami Vice. Hope you've liked reading it as much as I've liked writing it!**

* * *

><p><strong>Lester's POV<strong>

Unbelieveable. Un-fucking-believeable. As I dragged my lips down the valley between her perfect round breasts, I had a momentary lapse of sanity and had to physically keep my mind from shutting down completely. She was so gorgeous. So fucking _sexy_. She moaned in frustration at the loss of contact, and when I rocked back on my knees to a sitting position and ran my hands through my hair, I knew I had to get control.

I took a chance when I kissed her at the club, half expecting her to slap me away. But when her tongue touched mine and I felt her heat through the crotch of my jeans, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wanted it as bad as I did. Her little speech out on the balcony just moments earlier made me think that maybe she didn't really _want_ to get together with me, but I've been around Stephanie long enough to know she was just telling me that in case I didn't feel the same way, to preserve her own dignity.

Well, she was wrong. Very, very wrong.

And the way she's always looking at me as though I'm made out of treats from Tasty Pastry, hell, a blind man could pick up on those signals. I may be a flirt, but Steph can dish it out almost as good as I can. Sometimes better. She's learned from the best, and I'm definitely not done teaching her all there is to know yet. As long as she uses the stuff I show her on me only, I'm game.

I was cautious with her at first, because we haven't been together like this before. I know how it feels to be wrapped around her body, because she's a great hugger, but while there has always been a layer of clothes separating us, this was a completely new experience for both her and I.

Her skin was warm and soft, and smelled like peaches. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out all over her body, and the slight scent of sweat mingled with the creamy scent of the fruit as I strategically placed my lips in the places I figured would drive her the craziest. As she lay in front of me, propped up on a few pillows and spread-legged on the bed, I knew my eyes would never again see a sight so fucking beautiful.

"Are you okay, Lester?" she breathed. Her eyes were as dark as storm clouds, her lips full and slightly bruised from my kisses. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took, and I could see her pulse point pounding through the milky skin of her neck.

"Yeah, gorgeous." I knelt down again and swept my lips across hers. "I just needed a second, you know?"

She smiled up at me and nodded, and I replaced my lips between her breasts and breathed in deeply. Stephanie was like a new drug, and I figured I'd better sign myself up for the methadone clinic because there was no way in hell my addiction to her would be cured without a serious fight first.

I was so hard I thought I'd die. The fabric of my basketball shorts rubbed against the head of my cock with each movement I made, making me want to explode before it was time. And Christ, we each still had our fucking clothes on.

Steph's low-cut little tank top was the first thing that was going to be history. I sat up on my knees again, straddling her legs, and gingerly lifted the hem of the tiny shirt to reveal her smooth, flat stomach. I couldn't wait to dip my tongue into her belly button and my cock twitched in approval at the idea. With shaking hands, I lifted the tank higher to reveal a little more skin and the rounded swells of the bottoms of her breasts. Shit. I bit my lip. A little bit higher, and I'd gotten the tank pushed up around her shoulders. I waited while she leaned forward and helped me discard it, and the second she laid back down my lips were immediately back on her skin.

I took her right nipple in my mouth and heard her sigh in complete ecstasy. It was so hard, so eager for my attention. I loved the way her body responded to me. I suckled it gently, and nearly went out of my mind again. I still couldn't believe this was fucking happening. How long have I wanted this day to come? Since I met her. Yep. Since I first fucking met her, and she had watched as I threw drugged-up crackheads against the wall and had looked on as Tank tossed a guy out a window.

"God, Lester," she breathed, pushing her chest out and forcing her nipple deeper into my mouth. I groaned, and the vibrations sent shockwaves through her body. She trembled beneath me as I continued to lave her nipple with my tongue, and I felt her hands slither up my bare back and weave into my hair as she held me to her breast. I switched sides and spent long, agonizing moments tormenting her other nipple as she gasped and writhed against me.

She cried out seconds later, and then whispered that she was coming. Fucking Christ, I'd made her come without even taking off her boxers. Her eyelids had fluttered shut, her head was pressed back against the pillows, and a deep rouge rose up on her cheeks. I replaced my mouth around her nipple with my fingers and watched as she came apart. Fuck, she was beautiful. And I was only getting started.

We caught our breaths with her hands still entwined in my hair and I pressed my cheek into her stomach, loving the feeling of her silky skin against my face. I pressed an open-mouthed kiss just below her navel and made good my promise to myself to taste her belly button with my tongue. She moaned loudly and arched her back, and I felt the grip she had on my hair tighten as she took in the pleasure. I kissed my way down to the waistband of her tiny boxers and dragged my tongue along the sweet-smelling cotton. I tucked my fingers down into the waistband and slowly began to pull them down, and my vision was blessed with more smooth skin and her swollen center, glistening with the wetness I had created. Steph lifted her hips and I eased the shorts down until I was able to whisk them off and discard them overboard, with the tank top.

"Fuck, Stephanie," I grit out. "Shit, you're so beautiful." Suddenly, I absolutely had to put my mouth on her. I ran my face along the inside of her creamy thigh and pressed more hot, open-mouthed kisses against the junction where her leg met her body.

"Please, Lester," she whimpered. Her hands left my hair and reached out to either side of her, moving to grip the sheets with tight fists. I glanced up at her and saw that she was watching me intently, her bottom lip sucked up into her mouth in anticipation of my mouth on her.

"What do you want, beautiful?" I murmured against the skin of her lower belly. I placed more kisses around her belly, purposely avoiding the area that she needed me to kiss the most. I was nearly insane with the need to come, but tonight was all about her and I intended to use every second of it making sure she knew that. "Do you want my fingers inside of you?" I kissed around a little more. "Do you want my tongue on you? In you?" I sucked a portion of skin from her lower belly in between my teeth and heard her groan in supreme sexual frustration. My voice had gotten deeper and I barely recognized it as I demanded, "Tell me, Stephanie."

A strangled cry erupted from her throat as she exclaimed, "All of it. I want it all." Panting, she gripped the sheets in both of her hands so tightly I watched her knuckles turn white. Jesus, I was so fucking hard. Her words nearly tipped me over the edge, but I held firm and found control from God knows where. My tongue found her throbbing clit just as two of my fingers found her dripping hole and slowly entered. Her cries of pleasure were music to my fucking ears. She was hot and tight around my fingers, and her taste against my tongue was sweet and intoxicating. She arched her back and ground into my hand, forcing my fingers even deeper. When I sucked her clit in between my teeth, she pushed against my mouth and held my face to her with one hand while the other continued to grip the sheets. I flattened my tongue against her clit and held her down to the mattress with my free arm as I slowly brought her to the edge, alternating between using my fingers and tongue inside of her. Unbelieveable. Un-fucking-believeable. She had me so insane for her.

She came hard, screaming my name at the ceiling as I held her down and continued to thrust my tongue in and out of her wet center. When she'd come down at last, I kissed my way up to her stomach and laid my head down over her belly button. I finally found my voice. "Tell me how good that felt, beautiful."

"Fuck," she stammered breathlessly. "Sh..." Her chest heaved as she panted beneath me.

I had to laugh. I'd rendered her nearly speechless.

Steph's hands closed around my waist and I felt her tugging at me to move up. I gathered myself up and scooted towards her, resting my lower half between her legs. She tugged at my basketball shorts and started slipping them down over my ass and thighs.

"Wait," I said, suddenly remembering something and halting her progress with my shorts. "I've got some -

"No need," she panted. She resumed her motions and finally was able to slide my shorts all the way off. My hard-as-granite cock sprang free and I saw Steph lick her lips in anticipation of getting acquainted with my better half. "I'm on the pill." She smiled wryly. "I'm not even sure why. But right now at this moment, I'm glad I am."

I heard angels sing as I smiled back, shutting my eyes in complete satisfaction and leaning down to brush my lips against hers. "Holy fuck."

"Yeah," she agreed, still grinning.

"I'm not done with you yet," I told her.

"This is true," Steph replied, smiling wider. "But we've got all night, Lester. And right now I really need to feel you inside of me." Steph shifted against me and brought her wet heat up against my cock.

I groaned and immediately captured her lips with mine before sliding my tongue deep into her mouth and kissing her slowly, feeling myself becoming more turned on than I'd ever been. Ever. Christ, what this woman does to me. I gently prodded her wet folds with trembling fingers and parted her before I slid my cock inside, inch by excruciating inch. Her breath hitched in her throat as she took me in all the way and I groaned, long and loud, when I was pressed as deep as I could go.

Blasts of heat shot down my legs as she throbbed around my cock, so tight and hot and wet. I buried my face in the crook of her neck and blew out a sigh. "Fuck, baby," I groaned against the flesh of her throat. "You feel so fucking good." I brought one of Steph's legs up and hooked it over my left shoulder while she wrapped the other around my waist. She brought my face down to hers and traced her tongue along my bottom lip. I took over then, and plunged my tongue between her teeth. As her tongue stroked mine, I slowly began a lazy rhythm as I allowed her body to become used to my size.

She wanted none of my caution. Those amazing hips of hers were practically begging for more as she met me thrust for thrust, our tongues still fighting for control of the kiss. She clawed at my back and whimpered loudly, signaling for me to pick up my speed and pound into her relentlessly.

The swirling tension was becoming unbearable in the pit of my lower stomach. I was already on edge from watching Stephanie scream in pleasure at the actions of my tongue and fingers. I wanted to come so badly that it hurt like hell, but not before she did. It was dripping wet where our bodies were joined, and I managed to brace myself up on one arm and use my now free hand to gather some wetness. I found her throbbing clit in our tangle of genitalia and slid my fingers once, twice, and a third time over it before she arched her back off of the mattress and buried her tongue in my mouth as she came hard, her cries muffled and her body spasming tightly around my cock. I let myself go over the edge then, and emptied myself into her with a long groan. Sweet relief flooded my body. I momentarily blacked out and felt my heart rate skip up a notch when I could focus my eyes again. Steph was still moving against me, drawing out the ecstasy.

It was all so surreal. Colors seemed brighter, sounds seemed louder. Steph allowed me to collapse on top of her and she cradled my head against her chest, stroking my sweaty forehead with shaking fingers. Our chests heaved as we fought for breaths, and I while wasn't certain about hers, I was sure my limbs felt like they were made of Jell-O instead of muscles and bones.

"Jesus, Lester," she whispered breathlessly as she fought to regain control of her body beneath me. "God damn."

My thoughts exactly. I turned my head to press a kiss to her pulse point and felt it pounding against my lips. "I feel like any second I'm going to wake up and find out that this didn't happen."

I watched Steph smile slowly and her eyes were sparkling. "Oh, it happened."

"Christ." I laid my head back down on her chest and she resumed stroking her fingers through my hair. "I've never come so fucking hard in my life."

Steph sighed contentedly. After a few moments, she nudged me and pulled my head up so that she was looking into my eyes. "Thank you," she said quietly. She kissed me gently and pulled away. "For making tonight all about me."

I kissed her back then, tugging at her lips with my own until she finally opened her mouth to me. A few seconds later, I pulled back and replied, "The night's not over yet, baby." I grinned seductively at her and waggled my eyebrows.

"You're right," she agreed. "Let's make the rest of it all about you."

Holy fucking Christ.

* * *

><p>The water from the shower was cool and felt like heaven as it pounded away on my overheaded skin and muscles. Steph stepped into the shower with me then, and my better half immediately stood at attention due to her intoxicating presence. She was all smooth, naked curves and sun-bronzed from her head to her toes. Her curly brown hair had grown long over the years, reaching almost to her lower back and as thick as ever. While Steph wasn't exactly the thinnest woman I've known, she still had a flat, toned stomach and an ass that's always made me want to sink my teeth into it. Maybe now, I will.<p>

"Lean against the wall, Lester." Steph raised an eyebrow and the tone of her voice told me she meant business. "Over there, by the washcloth rack." She gestured towards the end of the huge shower, opposite the water spray. "You'll need something to grab onto."

Jesus Christ on a razor scooter. I obeyed her commands, keeping my eyes trained on hers. Unsure of her motives at this point, but willing and eager to play her game, I situated myself up against the cool tile and gulped as I made attempt after attempt to find my voice.

"Wh-what are you doing?" My voice had gone deep again and sounded rough.

She gestured towards my hard-on and replied, "Taking care of what I apparently started."

With that, Stephanie lowered herself to her knees and proceeded to cause my eyes to roll back into my head and my grip on the washcloth rack to tighten to the point of cracking the plastic. As her hot mouth closed over the tip of me, I groaned and listened as it echoed in my ears. Her hot little hands cradled my nuts as she swirled her tongue from tip to base, creating unbearable pleasure that pulsed throughout my lower half.

"Fuck!" I couldn't help but cry out as she took me all the way into her throat, rubbing the back of her tongue against the underside of my cock and nearly causing me to die of pleasure. She sucked hard, making me crazy, and finally pulled her head back and withdrew me from her mouth when I was mere seconds from spraying the back of her throat with my molten load. "Shit, beautiful. I need to come!" The voice that escaped my throat sounded desperate and unlike my own.

Stephanie turned away from me and stood under the sparkling shower spray with her back towards me. What the hell was she doing? How dare her leave me in this...condition! I watched as she wet her curls with water and tilted her head back, eyes shut, letting the water spray onto her face and seemingly without a care in the world. After a few beats, she stepped away from the spray and turned her head to the side to look at me with water droplets clinging to her eyelashes.

"I'm not standing here with my back to you for my health, Santos."

My mind shut down. Again. I reached her in a single stride and had her front plastered up against the wet tile in mere seconds. I ground my nearly-exploded cock against the luscious cheeks of her ass and growled into her ear. "You know what you're doing, beautiful?"

"Hell, yes."

Fuck. That was all it took. I pulled her away from the wall by her hips and pressed her back up against my front. My fingers reached around to her front and found her nipples. I pinched and tugged on them while my lips sucked hard on the spot where her neck met her shoulders. Steph groaned when the fingers from my right hand abandoned her breast and inched their way down to her center, and her head fell back against my chest as two of them disappeared into her tight, wet hole.

"Harder, deeper," she cried out. I nearly burst out of my skin at that. I buried my fingers as deep into her body as they would go and moved them hard and fast, in and out. The fingers of my left hand resumed their assault on her nipple as my right hand created a symphony of sensations to parade through her lower half. She came hard, screaming her release into the tile and the shrill sound of her pleasures echoed in my head and caused my brain to nearly implode with the need to be inside of her body.

"Bend forward," I commanded darkly in her ear. "And spread your legs."

Steph whimpered in anticipation and did what I said. When her ass was spread out before me and her forehead was pressed up against the tile, I smoothed my hands over her cheeks and couldn't help the groan that reverberated out of my chest. My hard cock probed her folds as it seeked entrance into her wet oblivion, eventually settling over her tight hole. I entered her in one quick thrust and she cried out, arching her back and screaming her pleasure at the shower head above her. She was unbelieveably tight and hot in this position and I couldn't hold back as I pounded up into her over and over again. Steph met me thrust for thrust, pushing back against me and driving me deeply into her body.

"I'm going to come," she whimpered.

"Let it go, gorgeous. Come for me, baby." My voice was strained from holding back. I reached around to her front and gently flicked her clit, sending Steph over the edge and I followed her over with a yell. I pulsated inside of her and bent forward to rest my head between her shoulder blades. We were waterlogged, and the last thing I felt like doing was bathing myself. I slipped out of Stephanie and reached for her so that I could turn her around and gather her into my arms.

"Want to get cleaned up and go lay out on the beach?" Steph suggested when we'd calmed down, looking up at me with those big blue eyes. "We can take a blanket and just relax."

I frowned. "What if a sea turtle comes up and tries to lay her eggs on us? Or what if one of those police dune buggies comes cruising by and runs us over?"

Steph was silently snickering with laughter. Hard. "It's three in the morning, Lester. I doubt the police will be looking for any hard-core criminals down by the water's edge. And as for the sea turtles, well, if we happen to see a giant mama loggerhead heading for us with a belly full of eggs, I think we can probably out-run her."

This was true. "Sorry," I grumbled. "You must think I'm a fucking nutcase but I had a bad nighttime beach experience when I was fourteen. The beach at night sort of gives me the creeps still to this day."

"Care to elaborate on that?" Steph countered.

"I'd rather get a root canal without any novocaine."

* * *

><p>I spread the bedspread from the extra bed out on the sand and waited while Stephanie straightened out the corners. Before us, the ocean loomed ahead, big and black and sort of giving me the creeps. No way was I going to tell Steph about my bad nighttime beach experience, but I guess I can tell you that it involved me, my older brother Rafael, my childhood girlfriend Veronica, a small motorboat, getting naked, and the not-so-brilliant idea for a cruel practical joke.<p>

"Come lie down, Lester," Steph said, breaking me from my thoughts. "You need to relax." She patted the blanket beside her and waited while I stretched out on my back next to her, my hands behind my head. She stretched out in a similar pose, and together we stared up at the stars.

Neither of us spoke for what seemed like hours. I knew Steph wasn't asleep because she kept moving her foot in circles near the edge of the blanket, in the sand.

"Tonight has been really amazing, Lester," Steph said quietly.

I turned to face her and saw her smiling. "Yeah. It has been." I leaned over and kissed her gently, letting my lips linger against hers for a few seconds. "I told you that you owed me the trip of a lifetime. And so far, it seriously has been."

"I know. Best vacation ever." Steph's eyes were sparkling happily. She reached over and took my hand, and I immediately laced my fingers in between hers and brought them to my lips for a kiss.

"How do you want to spend the rest of it?" I asked her. "We can jet ski tomorrow...take a fishing trip on a boat with Li's Charter Fishing Tours...sit by the pool and get drunk under the giant umbrellas...go clubbing again tomorrow night..."

"How about we try and do all of those things," Steph replied.

I sighed contentedly. "Sounds like a plan to me." I pulled her close to me and tucked her body beside mine, with my arms wrapped around her. "As long as we still get to have more nights like we did tonight."

Steph sat up a little and looked deep into my eyes. "You mean that?"

"Absolutely, beautiful."

She grinned and raised an eyebrow. "I'll wear out your better half, Santos. I'm sick of my damn shower massager. There's no passion there, and it doesn't kiss."

I stopped short. "Wait a second. Is that why Hector keeps a supply of them in the hardware closet on two? To keep replacing yours in your apartment after you burn out the motors?"

Steph blushed, totally embarrassed. "Technically, yes," she admitted finally.

"You'll never have to use that thing again," I promised her. "When you feel the need to get it on with an inanimate object, you call me."

"Maybe we should talk about that," Steph said slowly. "Are we not friends anymore?" She looked worried in the dim moonlight.

"Beautiful, we've seen each other naked. And had amazing sex all night. I'd say our friendship is effectively ruined." I couldn't help but laugh as I kissed her forehead.

"But it can't be!"

"Gorgeous, relax. This isn't a bad thing. It's a good possibility that there's something more than that going on between us. To be honest with you, I'm kinda excited to find out."

Steph was quiet for a minute before eventually sighing. "Truthfully, so am I," Steph replied, smiling.

I pulled her face to mine and kissed her gently. "Tonight was something that I've only ever dreamed about for as long as I've known you."

"So we're okay, then?" Steph asked, her big blue eyes still showing a bit of concern.

"Yeah, beautiful. We're cool." I kissed her again and this time, didn't pull away. Steph groaned into my mouth and my lower half began to awaken when I felt her scoot on top of me and straddle my waist. I had my hands up her tank top and my tongue deep in her mouth when a thumping sound distracted me from my task at hand. It sounded as though someone was walking through the sand wearing CAT boots.

"Lester. Do you hear that noise?" Steph hissed, frozen above me.

"Sounds weird. Like...I don't know." I gently lifted Steph off of my body and sat her on the blanket before snuggling up to her and together staring out at the black sea.

"H-hello?" Steph stammered in a cautious stage-whisper. "Who's over there?"

We couldn't see barely a thing in front of us. The lights from the hotel were too far away to illuminate the sand where we sat, so I squinted into the blackness and could barely make out the shape of something short and fat a few yards ahead of us in the sand.

"What the fuck _is_ that?" I whispered. "That wasn't there when we got here." The blob-shape got closer to us, and by the time it was a few feet away, the horrors of what it was blared into my brain full-force.

"Oh, Christ. It's a fucking sea turtle!" hissed Stephanie. She scrambled to gather up our things and by the time she vacated our spot, I was practically already back at the hotel. "Lester!" She ran to catch up to me and when we looked back at where we'd been laying, the jillion-pound mama sea turtle had already started digging a spot to lay her slimy turtle-baby eggs.

"All be damned," I said in awe. "Didn't I say that would happen? The fucking sea turtle could come and lay her eggs all over us? Is it even sea turtle season?"

"It's August," Steph reminded me. "I saw a sign earlier that said sea turtle season was from April to November."

"Mother fucker," I spat.

* * *

><p>Steph and I spent the remainder of our days in Miami either at the beach, on top of a jet-ski, salt-water fishing from a yacht, drinking by the pool, scooter-riding down Ocean Drive, and snorkeling. I even tried scuba diving, but Steph said no and that she didn't want mask lines all over her face from the scuba mask. I neglected to point out that after snorkeling, she'd had the same mask lines, but whatever she didn't know couldn't have killed her.<p>

While our days were filled with outdoor activities, our nighttime activities were far more exciting. I took her out to dinner one night to Prime 112 on Ocean Drive, and another night to The Forge, and then afterwards took her to a couple of funky places where we could get a couple of drinks and do a little dancing. And when our evening outings were over each night, I took her back to our hotel suite and made love to her until she begged me never to stop.

Christ, I'd never get tired of this woman. Stephanie was perfect for me in every which way. I felt as though she was my soul mate, as cheesy as that sounds, but a lot of me thought it was true. We had so much fun together. She was easy to talk to, and to get along with. It wouldn't be hard for us to transition from friends into something more, but I was only willing to do that when she was absolutely ready. I wasn't going to push her into anything that she may need more time to adjust to. This was completely new to both of us, and I was determined to make it work.

"Ready, beautiful?" I asked her as we stepped out of the taxi cab at Miami International.

Steph hiked her carry-on over her shoulder and frowned sadly. "I don't want to leave," she pouted. "I could easily see myself living here."

"Well, your tan is definitely dark enough. You'll give the Bossman a run for his money in the mocha-latte department." I put my arm around her shoulder and guided her into the terminal. "But it'll be good for us to get back to reality."

We got in line at the baggage check-in and I wrapped Steph in both of my arms before giving her a long, luxurious kiss. She pulled away, breathless, and said, "I know I'll see you every day, but I'll miss you at night."

"You wouldn't have to." I brought her face to mine for another bone-dissolving kiss. "My bed's big enough for two."

Steph grinned. "We're going to be the talk of RangeMan forever, you know that, right?"

"Let 'em talk." I led her up to the baggage check-in counter. "At least we won't be the ones chatting. Our mouths will be too busy doing other things."

"I love how you think, Santos." Stephanie grinned up at me.

When we got on the plane, Stephanie stared sadly out the window as soon as we began to taxi down the runway. "Goodbye, South Florida. Hello, crummy Trenton."

"Hey, baby. While we're at it, let's plan our next vacation. How about the weekend on the town in NYC?" I suggested, removing my headphones from my carry-on bag and plugging them into my iPod.

"I was actually thinking of doing the historic train ride through downtown Savannah," Steph said, smiling brightly at me. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

My stomach sank and I did a slow burn against the back of my airplane seat. "Yeah, actually. It does sound fun. I'll just have Tank store my balls in his desk drawer until after we get back."

* * *

><p><strong>The END! I wanted to keep it short and sweet so I can continue on with updating the rest of my stories. But the Santos Smut won't ever get old! Hope you all enjoyed. Perhaps if you all would like, I'll consider a story in the future about L &amp; S's next vacation. <strong>


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